


Not A Demon

by Asilyan



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Bartimaeus AU, Deleted Scene, Djinni Bill Cipher, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Human Bill Cipher, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse, In-fic time-skip, M/M, Magician Dipper, Nice Bill Cipher, Not Actual Demon Bill, Ooh shiny! Bill, Parallel Universe - Weird Different, Sly Dipper Pines, Trauma, Triangle Bill Cipher, a little Reverse! personalities, but i wouldn't call it slow burn, except Wendy she does something different, fluff in a gloomy world, kind of, magician everyone really, ok i lied bill is kind of a demon, or Pan, sort of, the bad guys are a bit nicer and the nice guys are a bit badder, this is what you wanted right?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asilyan/pseuds/Asilyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Beast with One Eye. An immortal entity of pure energy, with depictions spanning the course of recorded history, if one knows where to look. A being whose immense knowledge and power helped found ancient Egypt. Their very pyramids were built in his image! Still to this day found represented upon every dollar bill in the United States of America.<br/>Now reduced to this. Stuck following the whims of a snot-nosed human child. If he didn't succeed in killing the boy first, he'd have to throw himself into actual demon fire for shame. Just kidding. He didn't get this far killing himself for <em>anything</em>. But seriously... He was determined to make that kid pay.</p><p>Dipper was just a simple kid, pretending not to hear the bumps from under his bed at night or see the imps roaming the streets in broad daylight, pulling faces at each other and fighting over sparkly candy wrappers from the garbage. No one else did, and he'd given up trying to convince them he wasn't crazy. He'd given up on a lot of things, like having a social life, and convincing his sister he might work on getting one. He was determined about just one thing: that nothing and no one would bring his summer to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boy Meets Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ancient being of unknown power is summoned. The summoner? A prepubescent kid, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows more or less the rules of the Bartimaeus universe, but don't worry, you shouldn't have to know anything about that to enjoy, just know that Bill is Not (Strictly) A Demon~  
> Updates will probably be awfully irregular.  
> The pronoun usage for the first chapter is a bit weird- see end notes for my word on this.

Its eye rested heavily on the book, so heavily that the weight translated itself directly into sweat sliding out of his pores and slickening his tight grip on the leather-bound edges, and strain in his tendons sticking right out on his wrists. The book felt so very heavy under its gaze, he could even feel his resolve being stripped systematically away, as if that was something that could be physically peeled away from his body and sucked into a stare. He was wholly convinced his shaking hands were going to drop it, it was only a matter of time before they gave out, but somehow just a moment longer was endured and all the pressure fell away.

The pupil, a dark, vertically elongated cat-like slit rose within the white background of the eye, angling towards his face and while he felt awash with relief that he was no longer groaning in order to hold a book at shoulder height- more like a 100 page novella than a dust-soaked 500 page tome- this was hardly better.

The floating triangle in the room was looking at _him_. It was kind of freaking him out.

And then it wasn't. "Oh, WOWEE, would'ja look at this place! It's exceptionally boring. The only thing extraordinary about it is how indistinguishable it is from the last five places I've been summoned. Gee, you humans seriously want for creativity!" Despite lacking a mouth or any kind of visibly viable substitute the triangle immediately began to chatter away, paying much more attention to the sparsely furnished room and its painfully naked walls rather than the sticky, quaking mess of a boy before him. Twirling a shiny cane around one stick-thin, inky black limb, the thing continued in a loud, ringing voice; "Still, there's something endearing about the way you lot cling to your contrived little ideas about structure! It's so nostalgic, each time I'm back, I can always count on your unnerving propensity surround yourselves with dead plant-life, your handily uniform-appendaged meatsacks that make you so fungible, rigid social hierarchy, your baffling attraction to straight lines- not that I'm complaining-"

"Wha- _fungibibly_?" the boy interrupted, mouth that had been opening and shutting like a door left to the wind's mercy finally finding something to latch onto and spit out.

It laughed at him. "Hahaha, yeah, fungible! Like replaceable, ey kid, doesn't your kind open your dictionaries anymore? Figures the only book you'd pick up would be that one," it said, but didn't glance back at the journal, instead focusing on a few tiny puddles of wax formed on the floorboards 'neath the dripping candles.

"I know what it means!" The boy huffed, stamping his feet. "But how are humans all fu- uh, the same?!"

"Well, let's see, five fingers, four limbs, one head and torso, two eyes and two ears unless you get something chopped off..." The triangle mused, glowing yellow. "Gosh, you all look the same to me, kiddo!"

"You have four limbs too!" The boy observed with a corny accusatory point that caused him to fumble and almost drop his book for the second time.

It inspected said limbs with its single carelessly lidded eye. "Oh, these? I just stick them on for your benefit, like 'em? Speaking of which, whad'ya think of _these_ angles?" It tilted its flat, triangular shape back, forth and to one side, propping one of its hands up on a pointy hip equivalent as it posed. "Great huh? Sexy, eh? Eh?" It leaned forward, only by about half a meter but still by more than the boy had expected possible, clear by his sharp gasp. The one eyed-triangle blinked, flicking its few-in-number but ridiculously-long-in-length lashes in a way that could perhaps be better described as a _wink_. "Pfft, you know it."

"Demon, abandon your foolish attempts at seduction right this diddly-darn instant!" The boy suddenly yelled, hands curling into chubby little fists against the cover of the book still clenched tightly. "You will obey me!"

"Sure, sure, I guess you did manage to get the binding ritual right, even if this chalk is totally cheap and flaky. Let me guess, your parents keep the high-quality stuff on the higher shelves?" It scoffed, then raised a hand to ward off its summoner's incoming tantrum. "Alright, alright. Although not actually a demon, I gotta hand it to you, you did the circle right! That does mean I have to do whatever your fleshy human heart desires, so-" The yellow part of its form underneath the eye lifted, giving the impression that the thing was smiling at him even without having any mouth with which to do so. And its two spidery little hands tucked themselves behind its back in a businesslike fashion. "What'll it be kid?"

The boy's nervous frown slowly slid away to reveal a stretch of a grin, pulling the corners just beyond ordinary comfort. "What I want is..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The use of 'it' pronouns for Bill was all about the perspective here- third person limited, and that's how the third person saw him: essentially our lil' summoner was being a bit rude to our friendly (not) demon. When he's getting recognized as an actual person, Bill will definitely get his favored male pronouns in this fic, though I still consider him to be agender (he's entitled to his pronoun preference in any case).  
> The perspective in this fic will vary from chapter to chapter, some being third person limited, and others Bill's first person, such as the next chapter. Other chapters will also be a LOT longer than this little thing, for sure!  
> Thanks for reading~


	2. A Perfect Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon negotiation, Bill meets the Pines' extended family, and he talks. A LOT.

It started with the slightest tingling, like one might feel if their toes have been stuck still too long without proper circulation. A kind of buzzing as the imprisoned flow searches for somewhere to go. The second step is more like a gentle, teasing tug, akin maybe to a wave lapping at one's foot before drawing back, without any real _pull_ to it. It remains niggling at the back of one's mind, but not enough for anyone to really notice, not unless perchance they were looking for it. If it faded then, it would be forgotten like the contents of a 'dreamless' sleep, lost as fast as one wakes up.

But that wasn't the way of it. The sensation slowly grew, doubling, tripling... Rising exponentially until it could NOT be ignored, it was ALL that I felt, steel shackles may as well have snapped around my wrists and ankles for all the subtlety at play now. My form was being dragged wherever these chains desired regardless of my feelings on the matter, and the moment I realized what was happening was the same as when I recognized the futility of resistance. Unless the one pulling on the end somehow fluffed up the finer intricacies and inflections of my name, the calling would be complete, and there was no way I was going anywhere but exactly where they wanted me, no doubt right down to the little chalk circle. I allowed myself to fall lax against the tightening bonds, accepting their embrace without any frivolous fuss.

What was a guy to do? It seemed I was just that popular.

 

* * *

 

... With living ventriloquist dummies, apparently. "You're not serious?" I complained, hovering lower against the confines of my chalk circle. Well, it was called a circle, though naturally it was composed mostly of the more handsome triangles, but- "That's your big plan?" Having at least humoured the creepy kid- I mean seriously, was that a powered wig he was wearing, because I was sure those had fallen out of fashion permanently a good few centuries ago- I had to stop him there. "You called me out to another dimension for this?"

I gave my one eye a good thorough rolling. "In a hick town too, of all places. Come on, _Magician_. Where are your sprawling cities, briefcases full of gold, females flaunting excessive measures of cloth? When you've got me at your command-" I hummed, only to be rudely interrupted.

"You'll do as I said and nothing else," the sweaty pompadour doll snapped at me, "that is, if you're even capable of that much...!"

"Why you..." I stopped, before my sudden anger could begin to turn me red. The way the kid was shivering right now, in the stuffy summer heat of an unventilated room, would have to curb me for now. I kept my brilliant yellow shine and crinkled the edges of my eye to suggest I might be smiling, if I could. "Oh, all right, you've got me. I'll settle this petty human affair for you, and in return, you bury that book in the woods as soon as I'm done. Whad'ya say, deal?" I extended my arm towards him in a friendly manner.

He hesitated, probably examining my outstretched hand for any clues about how binding such a promise might be, what a word and a shake could hope to mean. Unfortunately, as far as contracts go, the answer was almost less than 'none', and if he'd paid attention to any page of that book he should know it too, that he had all the power here, right there in his fat human paws.

Book clasped in his right, the boy's left hand stretched out to meet mine- unfortunately, it never did make it, not even across the little chalk line he had almost underfoot. Instead, the kid reeled backwards, shaking his hand like it had been bitten by a snake, or touched by hot coals. "Foul demon," he cursed, hopping on one foot, though there wasn't any physical pain actually associated with crossing the line, at least not directly. If he HAD crossed it, the painful thing would have been me eating him. Painful for him, enjoyable for me of course, unless he managed to give me indigestion.

Another bit of bad fortune; as I was preoccupied with contemplating the pros and cons of the traditional method of terminating a summoner's contract, _he_ was flicking wildly through that journal, scattering a few loose leaves as he did so, before landing on a certain page with a triumphant, "A-ha!"

I was thinking about the annoyance of cotton stuck between one's teeth and the difficulties of straight-up absorbing dead skin cells when with a few muttered Latin phrases, I was hit with a sharp jolt like lightning had fallen through the roof. It stung like a bi- bumblebee. Yeah, that sure is what I mean to say. Keeping it PG since before you were born, that’s me.

"Yeesh kid, I'm going! No need to get all _zappy_ with me," I spun my eye around in its socket like a particularly riotous game of roulette, only slowing when the pigface before me appeared more dizzy than smug. "Whatever this human safe contains, it’ll be in your thieving little hands before you know it," I snapped my fingers for effect, only to accidentally conjure a ball of blue flame. "Whoops," I chuckled, flicking it out in a hurry. "Ah, that won't happen," I assured him with an eye-crinkling smile, and crooned; "I won't burn it, don't worry your talcum-powdered little head."

He did not look amused. Pity. I had the absolute worst luck in humans: this blanket was wetter than an actual infant human's sleeping pallet. Gross. "Why are you still here?" he grumbled ever so unpleasantly. "Go!"

"I'm just waiting on your dismissal, my _liege_ ," I answered mockingly, leaning on my side in mid-air patiently as his slow little brain cells finally began to catch up. "You know, the little ceremony part that lets me leave your crude drawing without getting my essence torn between this dimension and the next? Would be nice,” I simpered, simultaneously disdainful and menacing, at least I dearly hoped so. If anything other than me starred in his nightmares from here on out, I’d experience jealousy problems.

"Oh! Right, uh... Very well, demon!" he ignored my objectively correct interjection of, 'Still not a demon,' and proceeded to chant the incantation, much to my relief. Imagine if I was stuck within a meter's circumference for the entirety of this toupee's existence- I mean, lifespan. Gross.

"Haha, well this'll be a cinch!" I promised with easy confidence as his Latin struggles began to draw to a close, and the pull deep inside of my being, tugging me away from this stuffy room started. I could go now, although strictly speaking I wouldn't have to until the third recital. But why stay? "I'll be back before you know it, kid, and I expect to see a nice hardworking shovel waiting for me when I do!" I sung, although I had no reason to expect any such thing. But hey, confidence was key, and if intimidation were to ever pull through as a tactic for me-

Just then, a voice rang up from downstairs, its clarity cutting through the musty attic air and the age old magic at work up there. "Dinner's nearly ready, dear!"

I drank up the look of horror on his face, enticing me to linger just a moment longer than necessary. There was no name call, so nothing to be gained in that manner, only now I knew he did live with a loved one, almost certainly his mother, and that was clearly enough to strike fear into his plastic-looking facial muscles.

"A-and don't come back until 11!" he ordered in a panic, yelling after my fast-fading form.

I just called out my signature parting words with only a minor altercation; "Don't forget! Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, and I caaaan't heeeaaar youuuu!"

My cackling continued even as the dingy little attic of the magician’s house melted away around me, replaced by a dimly lit expanse of browns and greens- the woods of Gravity Falls. A good way down the tire-beaten track a little yellow light shone out through the whiskered conifer branches, beckoning. I had a good feeling in my allegorical stomach about this. Or maybe it was just enduring satisfaction from withholding the handy titbit of advice that usually accompanied my grand exit. One of these days, that fool would find himself in a pinch, as all magicians dabbling with otherworldly entities beyond their understanding inevitably do. And then he would wish someone had told him to stock up on gold. Trust me.

In the present though, revenge and its classical evil laughter accompaniment would have to wait. For now, I had to humour his stupid whims, so obediently I hovered along the worn dirt road, glad my form was the kind that typically floated. I mean, if I'd had landed with my perfectly polished black feet parts in the mud? That would have sucked! Luckily, I'm the fabulous me, so everything was fine.

I just had to mute the glow of my aura and remove all sensory signs of myself from at least the first two planes of reality. Humans, the poor clueless things, could ordinarily see only the first, but felines could go further, and I had no desire to repeat that one disastrous incident, when I was also operating on the sly, trying to eavesdrop when one curious cat got it into its head to paw at and chase me all around the garden. I guess it was what I got for favouring the guise of a golden triangle hanging in mid-air. But don't worry! The pesky thing certainly learnt its lesson, and I made sure no amount of satisfaction would bring it back.

Of course, my own suffering was much greater when my then-master discovered how badly I'd botched that mission. The cat got off easy, and this just reminded me to get this job done quickly and correctly, to save myself an encore experience. I didn't know whether my victims this time around would have a housecat, but I made sure I'd be safe rather than sorry, coating myself with a good thick layer of enchanted concealment. Then again, dollface was only a kid. Who knows how effective he'd actually be at dishing out punishment. He surely had some temper-tantrum issues, but judging by the way he was floundering with the book earlier, magic came anything but naturally to him. Amateurs! I'd eat him for breakfast, if I was a little more sure he wouldn't taste of soggy cardboard and mayonnaise. I mean, not ideal, but I'll admit I had consumed worse...

This line of thought distracted me right up to the wooden shack door. Shack turned out to be a very apt descriptor, as I turned my eye upwards and discovered large letters that read: MYSTERY HACK.

... Wait, 'HACK'? Oh, the 'S' had flopped down onto the side of the roof. Haha. Very funny. Not at all classy. That good vibe I mentioned originating from around my bowtie? That was gone. At that moment, I was sure I was going to hate every second of this.

 

* * *

 

Yep. What can I say, I'm the best judge of character. And from the second I clapped eyes on this fella, everything from the shoddy tile work on the roof to the rough edges on the wooden porch at my feet screamed cheap. I hardly needed the giant signs spelling it out for me on top of it all. I'd even bet my damn fine tall hat the family had built it themselves, and trust me, that wasn't something I usually gambled, given the non-transferable actual-piece-of-my-being nature of the thing.

Ok, no procrastinating, me. I had my orders, so suck it up! Taking reluctance as my middle name, I inserted one extremely malleable black finger into the keyhole and fiddled just a bit until I heard a click. Honestly, humans. Sometimes I thought they worked backwards- a boarded up door was ever so much harder to break into, compared to these flimsy little mechanical lock things. But it made half my jobs easier, since magicians never could keep their horrid sticky hands to themselves. More slices of cake for me, I suppose. Too bad human food wasn't in any way enjoyable for uh, MOST of my kind. We find humans AS food much more palatable all round.

The door squeaked as I pushed it open, and that triggered a palm slap to my triangle face. Ugh, while it was true that no one would be able to hear me, including that face-to-palm just then, and also any monologue I might like to indulge in during tonight's stint as cat-burglar, any noise coming from external objects? That'd be audible. Confound it, I sighed. But it was late and it didn't look like anyone was around- probably having dinner now, like that nasty little wiglet of mine- so I proceeded to slide lightly into the room, and cast a muffler spell on the door so I could press it shut without a disturbance on any of the relevant planes. Yay. Entrance achieved. Advance to level 2.

I turned around and almost straight up had a heart attack. I'm convinced I would have, had I any heart to speak of.

He stood right in front of me, eyes looking, so it seemed, right into my very soul.

Then he oinked and trotted away to sniff at a candy wrapper that had fallen behind the back of a big... sheet-covered something. I harrumphed aloud and pretended that hadn't affected me in the least, wiping away some non-existent sweat from my metaphorical brow and went on to examine the rest of the room... Boring, moving along. Just a bunch of glass cases and- whoa whoa what the hell is that.

I honestly couldn't tell so I consulted the conveniently placed sign for guidance.

A- a "JACKOLOPE"? I just frowned and continued to browse, reading the names aloud to myself. Because I needed to hear my own bewilderment get repeated back to me. Loudly, at full volume apparently. A "GIANT'S EAR"? A "PTEROSAUR"... "BEAVERCORN", "ROOSTDEER", "SIX-PACK O' LOPE?" what even was... Oh. Haha. The timeless human staple of pornography, now that I understood. But why the image was depicting horses and declaring it unnatural-? "HORSE RIDING A HORSE"... Humans, I- no, no comment. Moving along now! A "FAIRY," appeared to be a chicken with two wolves' heads, the "FIJI MERMAID" was I suppose historically accurate, in reviving an age-old tradition of sewing monkey heads and fish tails together, but when I swept the sheet down off the "CORNICORN", well, I wasn't sure what I was expecting there, but it wasn't tears streaming out of my eye and laughter so sudden and forceful it hurt.

And at that point, I hadn't even seen the "SASCROTCH" yet.

So, let's fast-forward to the point where I make it out of the showroom, shall we?

There we are. In the hallway, I slumped down against a support pillar and pretended I didn't need to gasp to recover my gratuitous breath. Honestly, the "Museum" was an assault to the senses. And an affront to all supernatural dignity. But surely that wasn't my moppet's motivation, so... Aw hell. What kind of a magician would want to steal any of this? Seriously poor form. Well, whatever. The sooner I got it over and done with the better, right? Then maybe I'd have time to duck into the bathroom and spend the necessary three hours with a toilet brush up my metaphorical nose to rid myself of the stench of embalming fluid and _tack_.

Since, you know the kid had said not bother him again until 11. PM, I was assuming. And going by the garish abomination of a cuckoo clock sitting on a side table, too incapacitated by its own gaudy decor to even make it up onto the wall... What, 1:50? No, it couldn't be! What the- oh, I see. _I see_. Narrowing my eye snidely, I slinked closer to the offending creation. And what a delinquent it was. So blatantly shirking its duty, instead partaking of frivolous pleasures- was that a beach house? My god. Such shameless sin. It had to be the work of that sinister new 'hipster' crowd I kept hearing about nowadays. I wondered if the mastermind might be in this very house at that very moment.

I heard a sharp creak of wood and nearly fell backwards and skewered myself on a... a... "GRIZZLYCORN"? Even the hallway was infested with these atrocities, and I got the feeling I better not hold my breath for them to run out anytime soon. Now all bent out of shape, I tried to regain that breath I didn't need and stay out of the way as a shape hurtling like a cannonball cleared the hallway.

"Waaaddles!!" What seemed to be a woollen purple bundle of pure sugar in human form skidded to a halt and doubled back to peek inside the museum. She- now I'll admit the whole human gender thing confused me occasionally, especially with the kids, but if I was going to call my summoner a boy then I could certainly assume this to be a girl- let out a squeak like an elephant with its trunk tied up in knots and bent down to scoop up... The fifteen-pound beast from earlier? By Solomon, those noodle arms were really stronger than they looked.

A voice sounded from the direction the girl had come, a deep, growly kind that conjured up an image of a tree that had been on fire. It was likely the man had smoked in his youth, a fair share or maybe still did, from what I knew of human habits. "Mabel! Thought I asked you to get your brother or else dinner will be cold."

The human girl groaned into her pig and shouted back at the grumbler; "I'm on it!" The clarity of her voice was somewhat impeded by the metal pieces and wire twined around her teeth, from what I glimpsed of it. Not something I'd seen before, I wondered what it was called. Whatever it was, it looked painful, and that gave me warm fuzzy feelings as it proved humans still had their infinite capacity to cook up new, innovative ways to punish each other. At least in that aspect, humans never failed to intrigue!

But fuzzies aside, I deduced that the man was stationary, and furthermore, he was probably a grizzly old man by the name of Stan Pines. If I assumed my wig of a widdle master to be a sound source, that is. Anyway, not wanting to lose the chance of a guided tour, I decided to tail the girl and the pork in search of her brother Waddles.

Because this little "shack" seemed to be built like a maze that was also a TARDIS. The human concept of sanity wasn't a thing my kind tended to worry about, but this place... As I trailed along after her, taking note of the coiling corridor and slapdash-haphazard constructed stairs- I happen to consider architecture one of my specialties, and thus I was no stranger to shortcuts, but- I had to admit I started to get why my dear wigness went to the effort of sending me. Whoever built this ridiculous structure was either insane or insanely stupid.

At the same time, it made ZERO sense for Shortcake to send ME. Talk about putting my (many) talents to complete and utter waste! I couldn't sense anything suspicious on any of the accessible planes, which by conventional wisdom meant that this housed a grand total of exactly nada magicians or their enchantments, unless they were by far my superior… Which was statistically improbable to say the least! I wasn't exactly an easy being to summon. One had to know what they were doing, er, except for my current master, who didn't. Well, even if I didn't want to put a hairball like him in any kind of mouth of mine, the moment he slipped up in the slightest- and he would- it would be the moment he died. Or started dying, because if you know me you know I'm not one to waste any potential for fun.

But plans of pain and death aside! I still hadn't found the safe. Without any magical means of locating it (that is, the safe was not concealed or protected magically, which would have been a dead give-away, ironically), the only method available was the old fashioned hands-and-feet-on search. Manually. And I mean EXACTLY like how a human would have to do it.

How humiliating.

That's not to say I didn't have some advantages. Like my superior intellect. Among... Other things.

This still sucked and I wasn't anywhere close to finding the stupid safe, so I was just wasting time stalking a little girl and complaining about how unbelievably difficult this dumb mission was being, like WHY didn't they place the cursed idol on top of the glowing pedestal in the dead centre of the tomb like they used to, oh my god those times were simple, when-

Oh. Oh, that was perfect. This was _perfect_.

While his sister hesitated in the doorway, I slipped past (being two dimensional really got me through those tight places) and floated right up to the boy curled up on the big ol' plush, grandma-esque armchair. I leaned down over him, the golden glow I naturally emitted casting a rather more healthy tone on his skin. I mean yikes, the kid was pale, and he had these shadows under his eyes that were seriously gloomy. Or maybe that was just the make-up they were doing these days! Humans were weird when they weren't fully developed. But as I squinted- drawing in even closer as I couldn't risk moving the hat perched lopsidedly on his head- they did look genuine.

And it was like quarter past eight and he was snoozing, so. But boy, was he snoozing! I mean, I don't think I'd ever SEEN anyone dreaming so openly! And by that I meant he was open-minded to fantasies, the supernatural, to possibilities and things beyond not just human understanding, but imagination. Things like _me_. Heck, his mind wasn't just an unguarded door, it was wide open and inviting me in.

Now, what had my orders from the bad hairdressing advertisement said? I whipped up an imaginary scroll just to peer down it and examine the exact words the sour-creampuff had used. Ah yes! 'In this realm,' he'd said. 'In this realm'! Ha. HahhahahahahahahaHA. That fool would rue the day he used such outdated texts to summon ME for his pitiful ambitions! Because I'd... Go retrieve my master's dull material wishes after using this other child's mind to help locate it, I guess.

I could have some fun while I did it though! Like inserting nightmares about colourful dinosaurs regurgitating live giant squid monsters, or something! ... Sheesh, it had been awhile, and the kid looked what, ten, twelve? Give me a break.

First, I turned to see what Shooting Star (her sweater had one) would do. If she woke him up for dinner- my chance would be gone.

But she just smiled fondly down at the sleeping boy, with a look I recognized as relief in her eyes, before turning and running away again, somehow not at all slowed down by hefting that pig. And the coast was clear.

I jumped in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was awfully rambling, I know, but if you can get through that, you can get through my anything, so good for you!  
> Stick around for next chapter, oh do please~ It's Dorito meets Pine Tree, and if you ask me: sparks fly!


	3. The Dream Is Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A human and a demon play a game. The stakes are high, but it's all in good fun. And even if it wasn't, it's not like any harm can come of a dream...

For the first few moments, Dipper was honestly confused. This obviously couldn't be real, but he had genuine difficulty trying to think up what else it could be. It had been so long since he'd last properly dreamed, the experience didn't even feel remotely familiar. Whatever was going on, it was all he could do to squint and try to shield his eyes from it.

The Mystery Shack's roof was peeling off, bending away like it was made of cheap rubbery plastic, and being pulled into a gaping portal with an eerie red glow and bursting at the edges with electricity. Dreaming, he decided then, had to be the most plausible, and acceptable explanation.

Because otherwise- oh god, what was that, something was coming _out_...

A little yellow triangle, only about the length of one of his arms in height, shot out. It was a triangle with a single big eye taking up most of its face, giant eyelashes to match, and wearing a bow-tie and top hat. Dipper stared in amazement as it _tap-danced_ its way through the air to land in front of him, jazz hands and all. "Ta-da! Hey kid, how'd you like the show?" It tipped him its hat.

"Uh, it was fine? I guess," he frowned, craning his neck back to try and get a better look at that portal. Even if this was a dream, that thing had interesting properties that he-

The triangle huffed. "What? Rude, kid, can't even spare a dime?"

"Hey man, I don't have anything," Dipper turned out his pockets to prove it. Cobwebs and spiders fell out, much to his alarm and disgust.

"Excuses!" The triangle declared, but still scooped up a spider and put it in his hat, and that back on its top, appearing slightly mollified... At least, Dipper assumed so, judging by the literal disappearance of the eyebrow pushing down on the single eye. "You know you're dreaming, right kid? You have all the power of your imagination in here. I would have thought you could manage a bit more than this," it gestured dismissively all around, to the torn up Shack, "But I'll make do."

"So I AM dreaming," Dipper heard with relief. "Then, what's that giant portal business all about?" He waved a hand at the extravagant sight.

The triangle puffed up in apparent indignation, growing about an extra two feet. "Oh, nothing much! It's just the door I made for myself to get inside your sleepy little head, that's all!"

"You _made_ it?" Dipper finally gave the tiny guy his proper attention. "But aren't you like, a construct of my imagination, if you're in my dream?"

Relaxing down to its original size, dapper triangle floated closer, prompting the boy to shuffle ever-so-slightly back. The gaze of that one, huge eye was just a tad disconcerting, even if there wasn't anything the least bit threatening about a tap-dancing... Dorito, that's what it looked like to Dipper.

"Do you talk often to people in your dreams? Sure, I bet you dream people conveying you certain ideas and feelings, but is a back-and-forth rapport like this the norm?" It asked, eye narrowing curiously.

"Honestly, I don't dream an awful lot," Dipper replied cautiously, not knowing what to think.

The thin pupil rolled once around in response. "You should sleep more often, kiddo. But allow me to prove to you my complete and indomitable control of everything in this realm," the mysterious being tilted its hat again, and this time the whole world seemed to tilt to the same degree, gravity lurching like a ship lost at stormy sea, and sending Dipper stumbling.

Still, he kept composed enough while gripping the window sill to remind the triangle, before it put the hat back on; "The spider?"

"Ah! Yes," it fished around in its hat for a minute before flicking out something that landed near Dipper's feet with a rattle. "Since you're so dreadfully broke," it was saying as Dipper picked up the shiny coins, marveling in their authentic feel. Then all of a sudden there were more in his hands and they were light and strangely slick- "Deer teeth! For you, kid! Ahahahaha," it laughed while Dipper yelped and dropped them, scattering the teeth all over the floor with echoing clacks.

Then Dipper was following them, tripping forwards as the hat was replaced on the triangle's top point. Just as abruptly, everything was steady again, except for Dipper's legs, which were wobbling like he'd just stepped off a rocky ship- and essentially, he had.

The triangle looked rather smug about it as Dipper struggled to stand straight again. "Convinced?"

"Who are you?" Dipper asked in wary awe, while trying not to be too obvious about either thing.

"The name's Bill, Bill Cipher, nice to meet'cha!" It- or he, Dipper had to assume- leered over the kid. " _Waddles_."

Dipper looked surprised. "What-"

"How do I know your name?" Bill definitely sounded pleased with himself, "Oh, I know lots of things!"

"No," Dipper deadpanned, face scrunching up into a serious frown. "My name's not Waddles."

"Sure it is!" the other stated positively, while his eye crinkled in something akin to a... Grin? A somewhat hesitant one. Contrary to his attitude, it seemed the triangle did know he didn’t know _everything_.

"That's Mabel's pig's name." For whatever reason, Dipper tried to console the guy, admitting, "So I guess you know some things."

Bill snorted, somehow, despite lacking a nose, and turned away. "Whatever! I don't need your name anyway! I'll just call you," he eyed Dipper's floppy hair. It looked almost woolly. "Lamby-Lamb! Or Pine Tree," he added in afterthought, recalling the hat the kid had been wearing in reality, even though it hadn't carried over to the dream.

"Lamby- you can't call me that!" the boy started, wide-eyed and distressed. "It's Dipper, just call me Dipper."

Bill darted over to stare him right in the eyes. "You can't be serious. That's worse than Waddles. Even by human standards- that's got to be bad!"

"Shut up, man," Dipper groaned, unable to help the way his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment even after having lived with the nickname his entire life- even being personally fond of it.

Meanwhile, the triangle cackled and cackled and seemed unable to stop. "Boy, your parents must really hate you!"

"Dude!" No two ways about it, Dipper had to be full-on blushing now. "What do you want from me!"

Bill seemed to remember himself and quickly recovered, hopping back so that he could lean on mid-air in an apparently 'casual' stance. While it did look too studied, Bill's confidence let him rule it anyway. "Nothing much. I'm just bored and was hoping we could play a game! It'll be fun, I promise." His eyelid dropped low and seductive.

"I don't know," Dipper answered, careful again. "I don't mean to be rude, but what exactly are you, if you somehow entered my dreams?"

Bill's eye did that weird grinning thing. "You know what? Play my game and every time you win a round, I'll answer a question, if you do the same for me. Like a competition, where everyone wins! Just one to a lesser extent than the other. Unless we continually tie," he mused, fingers framing the bottom of his eye like a human might their chin.

"I guess that would be fine," Dipper agreed. After all, the only thing that had been mildly disturbing was those deer teeth... Since Bill had already demonstrated he could do whatever he wanted here in the dream realm, if he wished any kind of harm on Dipper, surely he would have shown the inclination to do that by now? And Dipper did have a lot of questions that he was only barely restraining himself from attempting to drown Bill in. This seemed a good way to ask but not drive the triangle away with his fascination. "What game did you have in mind anyway?"

Then Bill was very close again and glowing brighter than ever, and though not blinding, there was something very, very intense about the way he was looking at him, and-

"Chinese checkers!" shouted Bill joyfully, pulling a box straight out of nowhere. Dipper couldn't help but notice how the counters all made triangles on the board.

"... Okay," Dipper nodded, trying not to laugh and/or cry at the expression of pure glee the one-eyed triangle managed to wear so well.

"And I'm yellow," Bill insisted, while his partner was being so amenable.

Dipper just had to smile at that. "Indeed you are..."

 

* * *

 

Dipper won the first 'point', which was to say, got the first counter to the triangle on the other side of the board, depositing the shiny and blue and very convincingly plastic peg down with a realistic 'clink'. It would be hard to remember he was dreaming, if not for the very unusual triangle sitting opposite him. That, and the fact that the roof was still missing, the portal above still occasioning sucking in straggling bits of tile, but at a very lazy rate. Now at complete ease, he didn't have any trouble reiterating his original question.

"I," Bill drew himself up to his full triangle-ness, though it wasn't by any means impressive. "Am a djinni," he said with the utmost dignity.

Dipper leaned forward earnestly. "What's a djinni, then? Is that like a genie? What are your defining characteristics?"

"You sure ask the tough questions, kid! Let me put this in a way you with your deeply ingrained and objectively false ideas of social structure and material existence can understand." Hopping out of his seat, Bill paced to and fro for a moment until his eye lit up like a lightbulb. "Djinn are what you could think of like a subspecies of spirits, except we aren't bound by the messy biological or chemical trappings of your world. You humans rank us by power and composition, and djinn are the widest ranging class above foliots and imps and below," his eye narrowed, "higher beings that cute kids like you needn't trouble their pretty little heads over." Since the boy had his mouth open, not in awe but in eagerness to ply him with more questions, Bill quickly addressed the other thing. "As for genies, I assume you mean the ones that pop out of dusty lamps to grant wishes?" As the kid nodded, he explained, "Well, a genie is something a djinn might be, if say they wake up in a charitable mood after being trapped for however many years."

"How come-" Dipper started, only to be interrupted by a waggling finger right beside his lips.

"Nuh uh!" Bill chided him. "Your question was about me specifically, and I, at least for the time being, am not a genie. You'll just have to earn another round!"

Making a small noise of frustration, Dipper dived back into the game with increased determination.

"Aha!" he exclaimed, on also winning the second point.

"Gee kid," Bill muttered, turning away slightly to brush imaginary sweat away from his more-or-less forehead. "You're really giving me a run for my money."

"Are you even trying?" Dipper teased, indicating the yellow pieces still clumped near the start. He'd been moving almost all of them one-by-one.

Bill proved that he was by making his very next move and in a series of truly elaborate jumps, sailed the length of the board. "So there!" the triangle declared, triumphant (in coming in second).

"Well, now we both get a question," Dipper reminded him, to which Bill just shrugged and gestured, 'your turn'. "Hmm, how does a djinni get a name like 'Bill Cipher', anyway? If you're from another world- you are from another world, right? I'd expect something more alien-"

The triangle shifted in his seat. "Well, it's OBVIOUSLY not my real name, is it? C'mon, Pine Tree, yes I'm from another world, our names are entirely different and your severely underdeveloped tongue probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it anyway. Bill is something I named myself, it's more manageable for your kind."

"Oh," Dipper looked a bit disappointed. "I'd like to hear it anyway..."

"That's not a question, kid," was all Bill said, skirting away from the request, something which Dipper reluctantly accepted.

He decided to ease the other by admitting, "Dipper's not my real name either, of course. It's just a nickname that stuck. I guess now it has more meaning than my real one."

Bill just nodded slowly.

"Are you gonna ask what it is? It's your turn now," Dipper pointed out awkwardly, twiddling with the corner of his jacket, worried about the way his playing partner had lost his enthusiasm and grown listless all of a sudden.

Of course, just as he thought that, the triangle jumped back into action, summoning a shiny golden cane out of nowhere and twirling it thoughtfully around in his spidery little hand. And dangerously. At one point it almost swept the checker-board off the table, only Dipper grabbed it away at the last moment. Bill crinkled his eye in an apologetic approximation of a smile. "Let's see. Ooh! Tell me, what's your favorite color?"

"Are you serious? Lame, man. You know it already," Dipper waved a hand toward the board's peg population. It was yellow and blue, and the latter was Dipper's selection.

That sleek, cat-like pupil trailed down to look at it. "Oh, of course." He scratched at the side of one of his angles. "I'll just have to win again and ask a better question!"

"You do that," Dipper chuckled, amused, and moved his next counter.

 

* * *

 

Genies were djinn that had been trapped by angered magicians and were either compelled by said magician to grant wishes, or were grateful enough to their rescuer and wanted to encourage the practice of humans exploring ancient burial sites and unsealing old boxes and urns and yes, lamps, for the sake of their fellow spirits and their own future circumstances. But they were not imps or foliots, which apparently lacked the power to linger or really grant anything impressive thus, unless cruelly bound, tended to depart instantly in a big puff of dust or smoke.

All djinn had magic, but imps could hardly cast a spell on their own, so most magicians would cast through them, or not bother with imps at all. Who would? They were nothing next to the fine specimen of a high-level djinni opposite Dipper right now- according to the djinni himself, of course.

At one point, Bill went off on a long tangent about invisible yet overlapping layers of reality but, refusing to slow down and properly explain, he left Dipper entirely in the woods on the subject. Something about existing in different forms on different planes up until the highest the level of spirit could reach, and on that plane and all those after the being was fixed in their true state? It sounded awfully complex and Dipper squandered half of it just wishing he could take notes. Unfortunately, he was dreaming, so onto plainer topics it was.

Bill was triangular because he found the shape pleasingly simple, but not boring like a square, or pointless like a circle. Ha! Pointless... Bill thought straight lines to be attractive and argued humans thought so too. The inventors of top hats and bow-ties apparently got their ideas from Bill, not the other way around. He never went casual because why have a legacy if you're not going to make use of it?

Most djinn and some foliots could freely shapeshift, but as Bill observed, demonstrating in the dreamscape proved nothing, as one could already recreate everything as they desired anyway (although try as he might, Dipper couldn’t so much as conjure a coin). Bill still showed off some of his favorite forms, going through lizard-monster to jellyfish to quetzalcoatl, to literal screaming tornado and Mandelbrot rainbow, to golden cervitaur, which particularly left Dipper stunned and breathless, to a finally fully human Bill… In appearance at least.

"I didn't think you would-" Dipper blinked over at the boy who looked just about the same age as he. Only sporting implausibly symmetric features, a perfectly golden tan, a suit that fitted to him like Lego pieces, and overall such an immaculately kept appearance that he didn't really seem like he could be a child at all. Glints of gold from around both ears were the last thing that convinced Dipper this really couldn't be a twelve-year-old. There was no way any mother would let a son his age get earrings like that.

Pushing blond locks out of eerily yellow eyes, drawing attention to his thin but human hands, Bill scoffed. "Of course! Humans are composed of atoms of this world just like anything else, so they're no more difficult to make than anything I just showed you. Honestly! Humans think they're so special," he accused, arms gesticulating in such a wild, fluid fashion that it looked quite unnatural. He really was a being of pure energy just trying on a human guise.

"That's not what I meant," Dipper corrected tactfully, leapfrogging another peg over several of his own troops. Bill's were giving him less and less openings, he noticed. "I didn't think you would want to. The way you've been talking about magicians... They don't sound so great," Dipper kept his eyes on the board. He didn't want to say it out loud, but if he was getting the gist of it right, the relationship between djinn and magicians sounded little different from slave and master, and possibly worse. If that was the kind of experience the spirit typically had with humans, he wondered why Bill didn't completely hate them.

"Oh, humans are the worst," Bill readily agreed, real smile widening. "But that doesn't mean there aren't things I appreciate 'bout them. You're the most intelligent creatures in your realm, so why shouldn't I represent my own intelligence in a way you can understand. As they say, when in Rome!" his voice echoed noisily in the dreamscape; the softer, smoother edge it had taken on his transformation into a human disappearing.

The triangle was back. "But this is my preferred form. In a way, it's as close to my true form as this world can allow. Honestly, it's a sad caricature to my true glory, but what's a djinni to do? I'm stuck here till my summoner releases me, so I might as well get comfy! It's like your human practice of wearing sweatpants," Bill added, "Only I would _never_." He shuddered, apparently horrified at the idea of human sweatpants.

"What does your magician want from you anyway?" Dipper asked slowly, the question having been eating at him for quite some time, though he had hesitated to ask. After all, Bill's own questions had all been extremely trivial, such as his birthday, if Mabel was then his 'human' twin, did a poofy white-haired child with an awful southern accent mean anything to him (no, he was new in town and barely knew anyone), and what he wanted to study when he grew up (mythology, weirdness, and maybe investigative journalism).

"Oh no kid, you've had WAY too many freebies from me!" Bill finally launched into the game, and in a few turns where Dipper struggled to make any progress, each jump suddenly seeming blocked or backwards, Bill had planted nearly all his tokens on the blue side of the board.

"You've been holding out on me!" Dipper protested, but the triangle shook his... Triangle.

"No, I've been strategically rearranging my pegs and manipulating yours," Bill amended, his eye-grin the essence of ego itself. "Now I've got to think up a really good question, too! It's gotta be something worthy of all those points," he waved smugly at the board. "Oh, I know! You should tell me something you're not supposed to! Something that could get you into trouble, but it won't because what could a spirit from another realm possibly want with your IRS number, or your parents’ bank account number!"

Dipper eyed him warily. "Uh, Bill-"

The luminous triangle loomed closer than ever, using an oily, persuasive tone. "C'mon, Dipper, don't you know it'll be fun? Take a little risk, although those things hardly count, I mean silly human numbers mean nothing to me, ahahahaaha!" he laughed maniacally.

"Dude, I'm twelve, it's not like I know any of those things," Dipper reasoned, although that was hardly the extent of his misgivings here. Although he thought he could mostly trust Bill at this point, when he started sounding like one of those scammy emails that everyone unnecessarily warned him about, it was sort of a red flag.

Suddenly the yellow triangle was huge and red and his high-pitched voice had plunged down into a deep baritone. "DON'T PLAY GAMES WITH ME KID YOU DON'T KNOW THE VALUE OF EVERYTHING I'VE TOLD YOU," the new voice boomed, and Dipper scrambled back, falling out of his seat.

"Whoa!" That definitely made Dipper nervous, but he wasn't scared yet, after all, they had been playing games for what felt like hours now, right? "Isn't that what we've been doing?" he said.

"Oh! Yeah, I guess so. Don't worry kid, I'll ask you something you surely know," Bill was back to normal before he could even blink.

Dipper got the feeling he was about to find out why Bill was really here. "Okay, ask away," he shrugged, from his place on the floor.

Bill sighed, crossing his legs and resting the side of his face on one stringy black hand. "I need to know how to get into the safe of the old man that lives with you," he admitted.

"You mean the one in the freaky storage room, if you exit the library and turn left, the second door on your right?" Dipper frowned and made walking motions with his fingers as he puzzled out the layout.

"Yeah, that's the one!" Bill exclaimed, jumping up out of his seat. "Thanks kid, I had my doubts but you really pulled through! Once I'm done breaking in and clearing that safe out, I'll come back and finish our game, how does that sound?" Eye grinning, he gave Dipper a rough pat on the head and messed up his hair.

"Hey, don't you need the combination?" Dipper yelled after him as Bill began to float away.

He stopped, back still turned.

"Is that what your magician ordered you to do, steal the deed to the shack?" he stared at the other-worldly triangle in alarm. If Bill had spoken the truth about all of his capabilities in the real world, it didn't sound like there was much Dipper could do to stop him. But he still hadn't gone yet...

"Bill, you can't do this," he started, as the ramifications of losing the deed began to weigh up in Dipper's mind. If Grunkle Stan lost the place, he lost his house, his business, meaning income and money... Who knows what Stan would do then, but he and Mabel would certainly have to be sent home. And that, he thought, palms now saturated with sweat and pulse racing, could NOT happen.

Bill sighed and spun around, waving his cane but without his usual pizzazz, almost half-heartedly. "I have to, Pine Tree, it's the master's orders," his eye curled in clear distaste. "I'd tell you to just try and stop me, but I really don't like your chances. Haha!" he laughed but without real amusement.

"But," the cogs in Dipper's brain were whirring. "Weren't you given orders to you know, not tell me?" How tight a leash was he really being kept on, then?

Bill really smiled this time, slinking in closer again. "Ah, that's the fun part! There were loopholes, you see. Fool was reading straight from an old book, and some of the phrases? Soo outdated! Actually, I reckon the sneaky author must've put it that way to trip up anyone who didn't know what they were doing! Specifying things like, 'don't communicate with anyone in this realm', doesn't he know beings like me can hop into the dream realm with just a skip and a hop?"

"And tap-dancing?" With a sceptical rise of his eyebrows, Dipper dared to joke, and hope.

"Yeah, that works like a charm!" Bill hummed.

"So," Dipper began, eyes narrowed and glittering as he started to scheme, "Might there be a loophole with the whole 'stealing the deed' deal?"

The triangle bobbed up and down in mid-air, looking what might be described as restless, apprehensive, but also excited. This was the kind of thing the sneaky-minded djinni liked to hear. "... Maybe."

Dipper approached at a cautious pace, but with big eager strides all the same. "So, if you could tell me a bit more, and I could come up with a plan-" He lurched to a stop when a wiry black hand was thrust right into his path, chest level.

He looked up to see Bill hovering directly in front of him, with his eye somehow twisted and stretched out into a disturbing curl, the infamous, demented grin of the Cheshire cat. "AhhHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAhahahaHA!" It was a laugh that sounded like matches and propane, and the explosive way they burnt together. Dipper, eyes wide in alarm, very nearly backed away. At the very least, he wanted to put his hands over his ears for the awful volume the djinni used; after all, he was a being not limited by the physical constraints of organic lungs. But something about the show of insanity transfixed Dipper, and he was left unable to move.

The unnaturally long laughter grinded to an abrupt halt. "This is a terrible idea! I'm going to regret this so much later!" Bill declared much too happily, smiling all the while. "But hell if it doesn't sound like fun. After all, I'd like nothing better than to royally screw over the plans of the snot-nosed brat that dared try order ME around." His voice turned unholy deep at the end and his eye darkened, but he didn't go red like before.

"So..." Dipper urged lowly, and nervous just didn't cover it. He thought he could hear horses pounding through his head, and if his palms were gross before, they were dripping now. But while he was tense, this time he was also smiling.

High-pitched was back. "So, you've convinced me. Kid, I'm sold! I'll help you keep your decrepit, smelly old shack and in return, you can help me deliver my dearest wiglet a truly unpleasant surprise!" Looking more thrilled than kittens with yarn, Bill was barely keeping his glowing, floating form still. But he managed to restrain himself, for the sake of properly offering Dipper his hand to shake. It was only polite, after all, to make it official.

The boy took it. "Deal. But are you really gonna call me kid or 'Pine Tree' the whole time?" he couldn't help but add in exasperation.

"Hey, I like it!" said Bill with a wide but natural smile, and that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlwqST8p70k, my inspiration for the fic. Really, this chapter is the best thing about the story, leave now CX  
> (I'm joking please don't). Instead, stay and tell me what you think! Are these two meant to be? Well...


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